Page 146 of Devoured

Strangest of all, they each seem to possess some animalistic trait.

The two guards beside Lyra—who wield heavy golden axes as if they weigh nothing at all—have slender tails. And the four soldiers behind them watch us through slitted pupils. Others have feathers along the backs of their arms, scales down their throats, or serpentine fangs poking through ruby-red gums.

They seem larger than life, and some force beyond my comprehension makes it hard to stop gazing at their ethereal beauty.

“It has been a long time since we have been invited to any sort of werewolf celebration,” the guard on Lyra’s left says. His words are heavily accented, the lilt curling like ribbons, and he tilts his head as any predator might. Observing his prey with confident ease. He doesn’t give any one of us a second glance.

Instinct tells me that if he were to fight, we would lose.

We wouldn’t stand a chance.

Cora chuckles at that. “Well, it’s been a long time since you left the midnight sky. Thanks for dropping in.” Her grin twists, cuts into something sardonic and sly.

“The midnight sky.”

I still don’t understand, and my heart beats so hard it threatens to explode out of my chest. I seek Evie’s gaze in the crowd, but she isn’t looking at me. She’s gaping at the way they bow to the Wolf Queen. Sin clenches a tight fist around my wrist—my scars searing—and glances toward his mother as the rest of the guests begin to shift in panic.

A few transform, their bones cracking, their skin splitting as they rip into massive wolves. The strange soldiers brandish archaic weapons in response.

“Sin?” I breathe.

“This isn’t me.” His gaze flicks to mine, and his grip tightens further. “I didn’t bring the faeries here, Vanessa.” A truth, albeit a mangled one.

He is lying about something.

I twist out of his grasp, ripping the binds from our hands, and move away from him. His bite still stings my palm as liquid heat slides molten through my bloodstream, but fear overwhelms me until I can’t feel anything else. The crowd begins to surge toward the queen, toward the doors, toward us. Too many people. It’s too crowded out here, and there is nowhere else to go.

Cora tucks a slender tome of werewolf vows under her arm and levels her gaze at the soldiers. “My sincerest gratitude for your arrival. I’m certain your journey was a long and rather dark one. Of course, I had hoped you would come after the rite was complete.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Lyra says. “Or would you have preferred we wait outside in the mortal city and attract unwanted attention?”

“Any curious mortals could have been butchered on sight.” Cora’s gaze slides to mine, and she licks her fangs. “They are not hard to kill, after all. Easy to squash—like bugs.”

I curl nails into the jagged bite mark and hiss through the pain, but I don’t speak. I don’t argue with her. The guests whisper their own opinions anyway.

She raises her hands to those guests, to her most loyal subjects, and says, “Stand down. There is no reign of terror to be brought upon you today. Those loyal to me will remain safe and under my protection.”

A snarl—disjointed and raucous—rises from the crowd. The few who have shifted into werewolves don’t shift back, but they don’t fight either. And those faerie soldiers seem to remain frozen under Cora’s keen gaze.

The taste of hot copper floods my mouth as I bite down on my tongue. I am sick of her insults. Sick of her voice. Sick of that sadistic gleam in her royal black eyes.

Sin pushes past me, headed straight for his mother. “How is this possible? The faeries vanished centuries ago—”

“Really, Sinclair.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Go wait by the arch. We will finish the rite in a moment.”

He plants his feet and, to my shock, says—“No.”

Cora blinks at him. “Excuse me?”

“I said, no. Why the hell is an entire legion of faeries here?”

“If you must know”—she sighs, jerking a chin toward the sky—“I have been doing my research on our various ancestors. On those Superior beings who came before us. They did not vanish so much as recede into hiding. Of course, I didn’t understand any of this myself until the stars began to flicker out and the constellations disappeared. Never in the mortal realm, though. Only in the Realm of Superiority. The stars faded, and the realm closed around our castle, and neither was a coincidence. Isn’t that right, Lyra?”

Lyra nods slowly, her blue eyes sparking with secrets. “The universe is always watching, even when I am not here.”

“The universe.” Cora scoffs. “The Oracle speaks for the universe. We receive our gifts from the stars. We evolved from asteroids and dust. Darling little tales, don’t you think?” She addresses her guests now. “It was in our faces all along, but we never truly saw it. We were too blinded by our faith. The stars. The gods.” She turns around, back toward those soldiers, and gestures with a sinuous wave. “All along, all of it was you. The faeries are the stars.”

A cold sweat breaks along my spine. Instinctively, my knees start to bend. My bones ache to bow in submission to these… these gods.